Florence and Mr. Belmont

Chapter 10

Olivier could perfectly remember the day he had his first drink. It was the first evening after Gustave's funeral. That night Adrienne didn't come down for dinner. Olivier had heard the sobs and because he had no idea what to say to a crying female, he fought it was for the best to leave her alone. She was a widow now. She had the right to be sad. Olivier wondered if he also was supposed to mourn. Should he also wear black?

Olivier ate in silence. Afterwards he went to the salon and poured himself a drink. Just like Gustave would do. He took a sip and he almost choked it out. His throat was burning, but still drank it all out. He never left anything in a glass or on a plate. He couldn't. He always had to finish it.

The next day was a repetition of the previous day. Adrienne cried, even sometimes screamed. The housekeeper tried to comfort her, the other stuff was hiding all the kitchen and Olivier, well, he was still unsure if he should wear black. After dinner, he poured himself again a drink. This time it tasted better. He liked the warmth feeling inside. So he made himself another drink. He realized that he was missing Gustave, too. It was strange, because Olivier never knew how much he actually liked Gustave until he was gone. That dark night Olivier promised himself to never let this happen again. He decided that if there is someone who he loves then the person must know it.

Now, several years later, he was also sipping a drink. He thought about Florence. And her fiance. Lord Mackelbury was not taking her seriously. And Florence knew it. Florence never seemed happy when being with him. Why does she not break off the engagement? Is it about Lord Mackelbury's money? Title? Are her parents forcing her to marry? Olivier had heard that titled families were often arranging the marriages of their children. Was that also the case? Or was Olivier wrong? Maybe she loved Lord Mackelbury after all. He needed to know. So he did what seemed the most reasonable thing to do. He went to the Alberton House.

***

Florence was comfortably laying on her bed and reading her book. She already had her light blue nightgown on and her hair was loosely hanging over her shoulders. Ping. Something scratched against her window. Ping. And then again. She quickly stood up and approached the window. It was dark outside. But on the sidewalk was someone waving. It was Olivier. Florence opened her window and looked down. Her room was on the first floor.

"What are you doing here?" She tried to ask as quietly as possible but it was hard when he was several feet away.

"I wanted to say goodnight." He tried equally to speak quietly.

"Thank you," she chuckled. "I wish you goodnight, too." They stood quietly for a couple of seconds. A carriage drove by, filling the silence with the clacking of horseshoes.

"Flo?"

"Yes?"

"Do you love him?" The question rang in Florence's mind. Do you love him? The first answer that came into her mind was No. It was terrifying, she realized. Since she was a teenage girl she always dreamed about marrying someone kind, someone funny, someone warm and most of all she imagined she would be head to toe in love with the man. But here she was, marrying someone of the exact opposite. She looked down at Olivier, who was still motionless looking at her.

"I..., Well..., Why does it matter?"

"It matters to me." Her heart dropped. She wanted to cry. No one had asked her if she was in love, because in their world it didn't matter. And yet, here he was questioning, something no one ever dared to question.

"Why?" She simply asked. "Why do you care?"

"Because I...," his words trailed off and he looked down. Florence hated the distance. She wanted to be close to him. To touch him. To gently take his hand in hers.

"I know you don't love him," he finally blurted out. "So why do you want to marry him? Is it about the money?"

"No."

"Are your parents forcing you?"

"No."

"Then why are you-,"

"No! Stop it!" She retorted in a sharp voice. A tear started to roll down her face. "It is not that simple. I cannot simply choose anyone. Everyone is expecting me to marry someone of high rank. And because Lord Mackelbury seemed like a nice gentleman and was not over sixty like other available titled men, I decided that he would be a fine husband. And now, even if I would want to, I cannot break it all off. I would be a disappointment to my family. I would cause such a scandal that probably I would remain a spinster for the rest of my life. Besides, Lord Mackelbury has done nothing wrong. He loves me. So I bid you goodnight."

With those last words Florence slammed her window shut and threw herself onto her bed, before starting fully to cry.

***

Olivier was walking through the dark streets of London. He was told it was not safe to be alone at night, but he couldn't bring himself to go home.

I decided he would be a fine husband.

I would be a disappointment to my family.

Lord Mackelbury has done nothing wrong.

He loves me.

Her broken words were playing on a loop in his head. What was he only thinking? He had no right to destroy her life. Especially not, when he had nothing to offer her. It was in so many ways wrong. Maybe it was time to stop this nonsense. What point was in desiring a woman one will never have? None. It only brought pain. The decision was made. It was time to finally go home.